Page 25 of Out of the Shadows
“Everything stops for tea. Hope there’s something to eat, because I’m starving.” Cosmo dumps his bag on his bed and throws his jacket after it. A second later he’s gone.
I cast a quick look around the room, my gaze settling on the narrow space between the two beds, which I swear has shrunk, before I follow.
* * *
Linda stands up at the head of the room and outlines the hell that will be the next few days of my life. Cosmo wasn’t wrong about bridge building with assorted pieces of crap, or working to escape a desert island, although I think she says something about it being a stretch of moorland. Whatever it is, I can’t believe William has agreed to pay good money on what’s little more than a Scouts’ jolly.
I can’t help my attention drifting over to Cosmo. We’re all sitting on a mismatched collection of furniture and he’s crushed up on a small sofa next to Fiona. He looks different out of work, although technically this is work. The sharp suit has gone and is replaced with tight black jeans and a loose sweatshirt with a faded PRIDE flag on the front. He’s so open about who he is, and I feel a twinge of admiration that he’s unapologetic. Not that he should be, but his openness takes a certain kind of bravery.
Linda’s still droning on, and I’m only half aware of what she’s saying, but my attention’s snagged when she introduces the facilitator. He takes over from her, and like his frame his voice is thin and uninteresting, and I switch off as my attention once again wanders back to the sofa where Cosmo’s tucked his feet up underneath him.
He tugs at his sweatshirt, and now I spot a slogan, as faded as the flag.PRIDE in London.
I’ve seen the annual summer parade a few times, but always from afar. Looking on from my former office window when I’d been working through the weekend, an observer of the colourful, vibrant life lived out and proud for all to see. I’d watch, for a little while, before I turned away.
Maybe I’d unknowingly gazed down on Cosmo, pulsing with life in the midst of the crowd. Maybe he’d been wrapped around a guy, laughing and kissing with a passion so hot it burnt, unabashed and unashamed, just as he was when I watched him not once but twice before. And after the parade, where did he go, and what did he do…? My stomach tightens hard, and the shock of it makes my muscles jerk.
What the hell am I thinking, and why?
I’m too late to drag my attention back to Linda and the facilitator, as Fiona, perhaps feeling the intensity of my gaze which is not for her, catches my eye and smiles.
There’s a coquettishness about it, along with a glimmer of invitation in her eyes, but all I can feel is a cold, dead nothing. I give her a bland, thin and barely there smile before I turn away.
Geraldine’s words come back to me, full of good intent and said out of love.Have some fun… All work and no play… Play the field…
But what if the field isn’t one I feel much like playing in?
I scramble to catch up with the talk, just in time to find Linda and the guy — Tom, Dick, Harry? — wrapping up. Dinner’s in half an hour, and then the rest of the evening is our own. Everybody’s beginning to shift and I hear mention of the pub. Not for me, as I’ve got work to do. I’m about to go and find Kyle or Saffron to ask if there’s a quiet room with a desk I can use, when Fiona appears.
“A few of us are heading to the pub straight after dinner, and you’re very welcome to join us. We’re only going to be having one or two,” she says quickly. “It’s Cosmo’s idea. Naturally. He says it’s all part of the bonding process.”
I glance over to the sofa, but Cosmo’s gone.
I shake my head. “No, but thanks. Enjoy yourselves, but remember it’s an early start in the morning.”
In other words, don’t get pissed. She and Cosmo are tight enough for me to know the message will get back.
“We will. Cosmo says he wants to find a burley farmer who’ll show him his hayloft.” Fiona laughs and shakes her head.
“What?” I stare her down.
Her laughter dies and a flush patches her cheeks.
“Only joking. Just got a few things to do before dinner.” She dips her head and dashes off.
A joke? If it is, it’s not one I can even begin to laugh at.
